Satan meets NCIS
by Katana Kunai
Summary: THIS STORY IS NOT MEANT TO OFFEND RELIGION! I heard someone say that Gibbs could scare the Devil so I built on that thought. Don't own. Don't sue. Rated M as a precaution. I don't how far my mind will go. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

Before we begin this story, please read the following warnings. They will be repeated at the end of the story as well.

Okay, if you are reading this, then you must not have read the summary. If you didn't, then allow me to say again, THIS IS NOT MEANT TO OFFEND ANY RELIGION/BELIEFS! If I get one review that says that I'm a Satanist or anything like that, there will be pain and suffering! I am a Pagan. HOW CAN I BE A SATANIST? Just had to get that off my chest. Also, I don't like flamers. They piss me off more than religious psychos. At least the psychos have some sort of warped reason that they hate me. If you have a problem with me personally, please, try to find me and say it to my face. Don't flame me. If you have a problem with my writing, kindly tell me how I can improve. Thank you for reading these warnings. On with the story!

Well, today is going just fantastically. I am not exaggerating or being sarcastic in any way. I just welcomed another suicide bomber to Hell. Oh man, I love the looks they get on their faces! Their eyes bug out and they scream like little girls when I kick them into the Lake of Fire after singing "Welcome to Hell" by Trace Adkins. That is so much fun. I call it "Bomber Punting."

Anyway, that's all that made my day fun. I was checking over the books and I realized I was behind on my estimate of souls this month. Now I have to find more sinning souls to bring to hell with me. So, I went to the only place I could think of: Washington, D.C. if there were any sinners, they would be in the line of politics and it all starts there. That and I have to talk to the IRS about my property tax-I have an apartment and they expect me to pay for a freaking mansion. They want me to make their house payment.

Normally, I would have just gone to the place and said, "I'm Satan, you're a sinner and you are going to Hell with me," but ever since those damn "Hellboy" movies and "Devil May Cry" game series, not to mention the damn scientists and lawyers that got in the way of religion, no one believes me. I hate it when that happens. So, now I have to "blend in." Fantastic. To make myself less conspicuous, I applied for a job at the White House in Secret Service. I mentioned my past jobs that I used to trick people to give me their souls. This includes police officer, EMT (you would be amazed how many people sold me their soul in exchange for living a little longer) etc. They must have been pretty impressed with the crime fighting credentials; I was selected for the Naval Crime Investigation Services. What a day. I apply to protect a politician I would be sending to hell soon enough and I get stuck with the Navy/Marines. I don't mind the Navy/Marines, don't get me wrong, but they cause me to write out more paperwork than I feel like. Worse, I get assigned to the team of Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs. I believe that guy kills more than he arrests. Not only that, but he has got to be the most wanted guy in Hell. There is a whole room the size of the Oval Office filled with people who hate Gibbs.

I got into the elevator and exited at the third floor. Waiting at the door was an aging man with piercing blue eyes and a face that looked like he had seen me in the home field and went back home to realize that I moved in. You know where I mean. I stood there stock still, shocked at how it felt like he looked right in my eyes.

"Are you getting off, miss?" he asked.

"Oh! Yes, I am looking for Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Do you know where I can find him?"

He looked at me with a smile and said, "Yeah. He's right in front of you."

Oh, lucky me. I try to make an impression on the guy and I leave the impression of idiot.

"What do you need?" he asks. He has a cup of coffee in hand and he hasn't taken a sip of it, meaning he wanted me to hurry up before it got cold.

"The Secretary of the Navy assigned me to your team. I-" I was cut off when I saw that he left for the stairs headed upward in a hurry to the room marked MTAC. He pointed to a set of desks that had a good-looking Italian man facing the elevator, a lethal looking Israeli woman facing the Italian and a geeky looking guy next to the Italian. Altogether, they looked like the Motley Crew reborn. The Italian looked at me and smiled one of those "Hi, I'm getting lucky with you tonight" smiles. It made me want to punch him in the face.

"Hello. I'm Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, Senior Field Agent. How can I be of service?" the Italian inquired. I didn't even really know him and I already hate him. Oh yes, I would definitely have a place ready for him when he dies.

"Name!" I heard from behind me. It was none other than Special Agent Gibbs.

"I'm Nara Dēofol. Don't ask about the name."

Gibbs just looked at me and said, "You sit there," pointing to the desk next to the geeky guy. As I walked by, the Israeli said, "I'm Ziva." The geek said, "I'm Timothy McGee." He even had a geeky name. Did he ever even get laid? He ain't goin' down when he dies. DiNozzo, however, had a soul blacker than Beelzebub's eyes. He was a serious adulterer.

I got over to my desk and put my effects on and in my desk, one of the items being my book of Ages. It listed every person and their dates of birth and death. I would have to check on DiNozzo's so that I have time to plan ahead.

Miss Ziva, whatever her last name was, kept on emailing some guy from Israel, probably her dad. '_Wait a minute! She looks like that Ari guy I threw into the lake last year!'_

"Hey, Ziva?" I started.

"Yes?" she answered back to me. How was I going to ask her without her suspecting?

"Do you have any siblings?"

She looked surprised that I asked the question, but answered yes anyway.

"Why do you ask?"

"I was just wondering, because I walked by and saw that you writing in a familiar manner to someone. I guessed it must have been a sibling or something."

Suddenly, Agent Gibbs said, "Gear up. Body was found in an abandoned theatre."

Gibbs tossed the keys to DiNozzo who simply remark, "On your 6 boss!" At Gibbs's command, everybody on his team got up, put on their effects, and left. This obviously meant that I do the same and get the meep out of here. I got my gun and my badge and left. Gibbs was nice enough to wait for me, or so I thought.

The minute the elevator started moving, he stopped the elevator.

"What are you hiding?"

THIS IS NOT MEANT TO OFFEND ANY RELIGION/BELIEFS! If I get one review that says that I'm a Satanist or anything like that, there will be pain and suffering! I am a Pagan. HOW CAN I BE A SATANIST? Just had to get that off my chest. Also, I don't like flamers. They piss me off more than religious psychos. At least the psychos have some sort of warped reason that they hate me. If you have a problem with me personally, please, try to find me and say it to my face. Don't flame me. If you have a problem with my writing, kindly tell me how I can improve. If you want to know anything about paganism, feel free to send me a private message with your question(s). Thank you for reading these warnings. Review please! BTW, yes I did just copy and paste the beginning comments to the end comments.


	2. Chapter 2

I looked at him wondering what he was talking about. I knew what he was talking about, but I didn't want him to know that. So, I looked at him as if he were crazy.

"What are you talking about, sir?" I asked innocently.

"One: don't call me 'sir.' Two: Don't try to fool me, Nara. You're hiding something, I want to know what." Then, Gibbs really irritated me by giving me the same look God gave me when I told him that he was unfair. He gave me a look that burned past my eyes, beyond my mind. This look could have made me sing like a canary if I was guilty of something. Unfortunately, it didn't work on one who was already condemned. Then, he said, "I trust each of my coworkers with my life. You are hiding something from me. How can I trust you?"

This time, I really looked at him as if he were crazy. Then, I laughed, unable to contain it. No one had trusted me since the Devine War. Of course, Gibbs failed to see what was funny. He asked me that question and I simply answered, after I finished laughing.

"No one has ever trusted me in this life time. I can tell you right now, to trust me is to be the greatest fool."

With that, I turned the elevator back on and that signaled the end of our conversation. Luckily, Gibbs took the signal and complied. Good thing he did, too. I didn't want him to look me in the eye like that again. I can't believe that I'm saying this, but those eyes scared the crap out of me. I do not want those eyes to look at me again.

After the scariest ride of my life in the NCIS van-by the way, Ziva is THE worst driver in the world!- I finally got to the theater and I immediately noticed it: that faint scent of darkness which made me feel empowered. I felt like I could take God and win this time. That's a bad sign. I went in, saw the stage and automatically knew why. The stage was set up as a satanic ritual ground. Whoever did this must have made a mistake because I am usually summoned over to the place they summoned me to and I "fulfill their greatest desire in exchange for the soul of a sinner." I haven't even felt the need to go to this place. I walked up to the stage and found the big problem. This woman was not a sinner. She was barely 25 years old. Shit! She never even lied! She never did anything that couldn't be forgiven.

I guess these bastards who did this didn't know who they were dealing with. Not only did they think to control my power, but they thought they could fool me into it by sacrificing an innocent in the place of a sinner. This will not stand. There will be blood spilling from the fools who thought to defy me. They have made a mockery of me and there will be suffering for this.

I was shocked out of my thoughts by the medical examiner. He was a sweet looking old man, you know, like that grandpa who gives you sweets and tells stories to you when you visit. "Excuse me, Miss, but could please clear the way so that I can examine the body?" he asked kindly. I moved to the side to let him pass. I followed him onto the stage.

"Well, I can say that it was not a quick death. The poor gel bled out from the abdomen."

Tony asked, "Why would someone kill a girl like this?"

"Umm... Dr..."

"Mallard," Ducky replied. "Just call me Ducky. Everyone does."

"Ducky. Might I add something to this?"

"Of course, my dear, what can you add to this?"

"I can add the reason for our surroundings."

Ducky just looked at me with surprise. "Very well, why don't you add your insight?"

I couldn't help but add in my knowledge of Satan worship. "Well, this type of ritual is a summoning ritual. This is normally used to summon the devil by sacrificing a sinner in exchange for giving the Devil enough power to defy God and grant your desire. This person is also a sinner who wished to leave the circle. This tightened robe represents how the sins will always cling to the sinner no matter what."

Gibbs just looked at me and asked, "What type of circle?"

I shrugged and said, "Satanist circles, you know, God Haters."

Everyone looked at me with a look of incredulous suspicion. "Hey," Tony started. "You aren't-"

"NO I'M NOT!" I replied automatically. I already knew their question. "I'm an Atheist! Not a Satanist!" It was the truth. I didn't believe in God because, well, if you read the Bible, it's there. I don't even have religious faith in myself. The list goes on.

"What's the T.O.D., Ducky?" Gibbs asked.

"Well," Ducky answered. "Rigor Mortis is starting to subside, so I'd guess a little more than a day."

"Cause of death?" Gibbs asked. I couldn't help but answer. Temptation was eating at me. It's one of the things that got me downstairs in the first place. "She died from a drugging, stabbed and bled to death."

"Another piece of knowledge from your experiences, Miss..."

"Nara and yes it is. The people who wrote the ritual created it during the time before guns. Unlike the modern cookie cutter Satanists who kill the sinners before the ritual and collects the blood since that's all that's needed for the ritual, these people are traditionalists. They know the advantages of killing the sinner during the ritual. They didn't want to sacrifice one of their own because that would lessen the power of the ritual, so they used a drug to stop the sacrifice from fighting or struggling during the ritual. Martyrs strengthen the spell and to a Satanist, martyr is defined as 'one who doesn't struggle during a ritual.' They also used a sword or dagger because it adds to the integrity of the ritual."

Ducky asked me, "How do you know all of this?"

I had to think fast. The last thing I wanted to do was let them know I was lying. "What do you think I do on the weekends, go clubbing? I study ancient rituals in my spare time." Sadly enough, that's exactly what I do on the weekends. Hey, if God can have a day off on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, I can too. I have Beelzebub work in the soul collecting on those days and try to relax.

Tony looked at me like he pitied me. I hate that damned look. Those damn kiss-up archangels give me that look every time they see me. I always want to punch that look off their faces.

"Hey Tony, wipe that look off your face or I'll wipe it off for ya," I shouted at him. He walked up to me and asked, "Why do you spend your time looking up ancient Satanic Rituals? Why not go clubbing or something?"

I looked at him with the most evil look I could give someone as stupid as him. "I hate clubs. They are cesspits filled to the brim with morons who don't understand the meaning of the word 'no.'"

Tony looked a little apprehensive at the look I gave him. At least I could still scare people with my limited power. I went backstage to find some evidence or at least an I.D. Boy, did I find my evidence!

Not only did I find the clothes of the victim, but I found a beautifully ornate, blood soaked, obsidian dagger that looked like I made it during my weapon smith days. I found her wallet in her clothes and her I.D said that her name was a Captain Mary Bennett

"Gibbs? I think I found something!" I called to him. Gibbs came back and found the clothes and dagger. He just told me, "Good job. Bag it and tag it," and left.

When we got back (I offered to drive, since I didn't want to die yet in this life) Gibbs had me go with him down to deliver the evidence we found to some girl named Abby. She sounded nice enough, from what McGee told me about her. Actually, she sounded like my type of person.

So, I took the elevator and headed down to forensics lab. The minute I left the elevator, I was bombarded with what sounded like a 200 pound man being thrown into the Lake and having his limbs ripped off at the same time.

I entered the lab and saw a woman that looked like she was between her twenties and thirties. I saw about three tattoos, but there could be more. I assumed it was Abby, since there was no one else in the lab. Gibbs confirmed it by saying, "What do you got, Abbs?" The woman turned around and I saw that she had the looked of a child whose father had come home from work with an ice cream cone for her. That look faded when she saw me.

"Abby!" Gibbs called. She looked back to him and told him her findings on the toxicology screening she had done on Capt. Bennett.

"Okay, I found out that she had a mixture of chloral hydrate and alcohol, better known as being slipped a mickey. Gibbs, who is this lady? Who are you? Are you new? Who died?" She asked frantically as if she was a chicken with her head cut off.

Gibbs grabbed Abby by the shoulders and explained calmly, "No one died. Nara is new and she will be working with us. Now, did you get a print off the knife?"

After she calmed down, she went back to the computer in the center of the room, and typed in something, giving me a dirty look reminiscent to the looks the not-so-sweet angels give me. You know, the ones that suck up to God but hate the fact that I exist. And that is the reason they are not archangels.

Anyway, she said that she couldn't find one print. I didn't think she could. That dagger burns away the finger prints of the one who wields it. The only bad part was that it literally burned the finger prints off of the dagger and the fingers. That way, there would be no way to punish the man in the mortal's manner. That way, God would have to send the guilty party to me. It was a perfect plan, in my eyes. However, right now, it was just pissing Gibbs off.

"All right. Thanks Abs." With that, Gibbs left. There was no mention or motion for me to follow, so I stayed behind. I really wanted to know why Abby gave me that look.


End file.
